Last Spark
by aerie-art
Summary: If only someone had smiled. Just one can make a difference; but that savior hadn't come for him. His fire had died out before it could even flame; his last spark of hope has been denied. He knows no more, only his beloved darkness. Perhaps, if just one person had...smiled. Suicidal!Tsuna; Rated 'M' for certain reasons; no pairing; read at own risk; most definitely OOC.


**A/N: Greetings and welcome, readers of old and new! This is the one-and-only aerie-art! And before you start chucking your lovely throwing bricks at this author's head for lack of any sort of sign of life for several months (from a new story to actually updating) let me explain! There is no explanation! I am lazy; I procrastinate. Not to mention I had no sort of motivation since my computer and my laptop have fizzled out and made my life a living nightmare. Seriously, my laptop is broken every three months (I swear it is a conspiracy from my tech center...grrr...) and my computer doesn't even let me log into fanfiction unless I beat it with a stick for three hours, let alone post anything. Then, suddenly, BAM! the silly computer works again...**_  
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**It made me incredibly angry. Not to mention I have my summer job...lovely...  
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**But nonetheless, I am sorry for not doing much. Sorry!  
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**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own KHR! though I would rather enjoy owning it. (Because there would undoubtedly be Fem!27...just sayin'.)  
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**Warnings: Extremely depressed and suicidal Tsu-kun. Does he die? I dunno. Maybe.  
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* * *

_Maybe._

_Maybe if someone had smiled._

_Maybe then everything…_

_Would have been completely different._

_If only…_

_If only one…_

_One measly person…_

_Had…_

**Smiled.**

He walked through the streets, only the occasional street lamp and the clouded moon giving him any semblance of comfort, any semblance of light, any semblance of hope. A light in a lamp he was passing flickered. Sparks flew, and it was dark again.

_The last spark of hope…_

His hope. His last spark of hope. Like that lamp's light, his light had slowly flickered out before its final moments went out in a show of quick sparks. You could almost say his flames had withered away and died.

He gave a weak, emotionless smile at the lamp. Staring at the cold form, the body of the lamp not moving, standing still against the slight breeze playing against his own skin. He would soon be like that lamp. Cold, unwavering, finally free of the pain this world offered him.

Cold caramel eyes forced themselves away from the lamppost, trying to focus their dimming light on the street ahead. His goal in mind, his life's purpose, he slowly walked on. A dead man's walk, if you will. A condemned man. A man with no light left in his heart.

His mind's eye, clouded and dazed, slowly flashed him his own living nightmares: his memories.

* * *

"_Hey! Dame-Tsuna! Get your ass over here!" a cruel voiced mocked him. The owner of the voice, a faceless monster, appeared in front of the quivering boy. A malicious smile to match his voice, the figure called out to his comrades. A group of at least a dozen teenage boys suddenly surrounded the boy. _

"_He's so useless." _

"_No one will miss this trash."_

_The beating followed the words. In all honesty, he couldn't feel the punches, the kicks, the all-out beatings. Not anymore. He had suffered far too long to feel anything any more. _

_But it was the words. The words continued to play like a broken record in his mind. _

**USELESS.**

**TRASH.**

**WORTHLESS.**

**DISGUSTING. **

**SCUM.**

**JUST DIE ALREADY, DAME-TSUNA!**

_Those words, they slowly crept into his hardened heart, breaking the concrete form harshly. The cracks continued to spread, the stone heart breaking apart little by little. _

"**NO ONE LOVES YOU!"**

_Finally. The truth was spoken. As it was always said in those happy-endings fairy tales, the truth had finally set him free. _

* * *

'Yes. No one. No one at all loves me. No one would ever miss me. Such a useless, disgusting creature I am. I am not even human. I. Am. Worthless.'

* * *

"_Tsu-kun! Mama is going away for a few days, alright? There's food in the fridge!" his mother, his beautiful mother, disappeared from the sight of her ten year old son. He knew the truth. He knew she was meeting his father. Somewhere. Probably Tokyo. _

_His father wouldn't want to see such a useless son. _

_And he didn't want to see such a useless father. _

_He slowly left his seat at the dining room table and found himself in front of the calendar. October 13th was decorated with hearts. _

_**Iemitsu comes home! **Was written in what remained of the white space. _

_He sighed softly and allowed his eyes to wander towards October 14th. Though he knew what would be written there, he could only hope. _

_Nothing. Nothing had been written. She had forgotten his birthday once again. _

* * *

_The six year old smiled happily as his father lifted him up in his strong arms and swung him around. Giggling happily, the child didn't notice that the man's eyes were constantly on his mother's, nor did he notice the forced smile on the blond man's face. _

"_Tsu-kun," his mother began. "Why don't you go up to your room and find some of your drawings to show Papa?" Happily complying with his mother's wishes, the boy waddled up the stairs, only tripping twice (a new record!) and went to his bedroom, quickly searching for his family portraits he drew in crayon to show his beloved papa. _

_After locating the crudely drawn pictures, he smiled happily and left the room, ignoring the mess he promised to clean up later but knew he wouldn't. _

_Hearing the voices of his precious Mama and dearest Papa, the boy slowed down as he went down the stairs. He didn't want to trip and embarrass himself. _

_Although, as he neared the bottom of the stairs, he heard the hurried whispers, and although he didn't understand some of the words, he knew they were talking about him. And…that it wasn't good. _

"_Nana! There has to be something wrong with him! Even the teachers at the pre-school think so. No child should be this far behind, this undeveloped!" he father growled out softly. _

"_Honey, calm down. He's just a late bloomer, that's all." His mother tried to comfort him, but even Tsuna and his father could tell that her tone depicted something that hurt them both. _

_She herself believed something wrong with Tsuna. _

_But unlike Iemitsu, who quieted himself and started discussing special education classes and perhaps some therapy of some sort, Tsuna wasn't calm. He was shaking. Was he a disgrace to the Sawada name? _

"_This…This will cost a lot, Iemitsu. A lot of money that we just don't have…" his mother whispered. _

"_Don't worry about it, sweetie." His father began to comfort the now-crying Nana. _

"_Perhaps…perhaps it was a mistake…to have a child so soon…Iemitsu…" she sobbed quietly, not wanting to disturb her child. _

"_I…I think so too…" he sighed. _

_Tsuna's body flinched and tensed. He…was he a mistake? Should he have never been born? _

_Looking at the picture, the crude picture done in crayon, he noticed something he had never seen before. A happy, smiling family. Had he imagined it? Always imagined himself and his mother and his father as a happy, carefree family? How could they be happy? How could they be carefree? How could they, with a screw-up son like himself? _

_He clenched his jaw and quietly ran up the stairs, for once not even tripping. He rushed into his room and slammed his door. He slowly slid down to the floor, tears poring from his large caramel orbs. Glancing at the several pictures, he grimaced. A quick decision came to mind. He began to brutally tear apart the portraits. What never has existed…and never will…should not be created by the child's hands…_

* * *

He shook himself awake, trying to force the nightmares to leave him alone. When they refused, he began pounding his head. After his self-given beating, the nightmares slowly flew away. Reality closed in, and he realized he was in front of his own home.

Eyes hardening and a frown marring his flawless, pale face, he pushed the door open. Closing it softly and locking it behind him, a sorrowful pain clenched in his chest. His mother wasn't there to greet him, to ask him where the hell he had been. The fourteen year old only sighed. His mother's smiles no longer counted. He knew they were fake and forced. Just like his father's smiles and annoying grins.

Determination settled in his gut, and he knew what he planned on doing was completely right. No one would miss him if no one wanted him to begin with.

A happy, yet sorrowful, smile settled on his face. He quietly crept up the stairs, not wanting to trip and alert the woman he knew as his mother.

He made it into his room without any problem. He hadn't tripped once, hadn't caused a ruckus, and hadn't proved himself as a worthless human being. Grimacing as the cloth peeled away from his bloody skin, he began to undress, folding up his bloody and disgusting school uniform and placing it on his bed.

With only a pair of baby blue boxers on, he headed to the bathroom. He ran the water into the bathtub. A quick stab of uneasiness flashed in him. He shook it away, however, and his earlier determination came back tenfold. He made his way over to the cabinet. Inside he found his tools of the trade.

Gathering his sleeping pills, every single last one of them in his hand, he swallowed them quickly. He grabbed a razor from the cabinet and quickly made his way over to the bathtub.

He turned the water tap off, peeled his boxers off, and slowly settled into the water. Letting the warmth wrap around him, he suddenly felt true bliss. A quiet giggled escaped from his lips. Soon, soon he would be free!

He grabbed the razor and punctured his wrist. Wincing all the while, he slowly dragged it across one wrist before going to work on the other. Watching the blood soak into the water surrounding him, a smile suddenly appeared on his usually depressed face. He made several other cuts along his arms, each puncture, each cut, getting deeper and more fatal. Sighing and smiling at his handiwork, he watched the cuts bleed out. Both of his arms were drenched in blood.

He placed the bloody razor on the edge of the tub. Letting out a content sigh, he slowly let himself go deeper into the water.

If he didn't die of blood loss, he knew either the pills or drowning would take care of him.

He didn't notice as his world turned fuzzy and black. He didn't notice as slowly disappeared into oblivion. The pain from his cuts no longer existed. The pain from his world no longer existed. He was free.

He didn't notice the door swing open; he had forgotten to lock it. He didn't notice his mother enter. He didn't notice her look at him, true horror etched on her face. He didn't hear her scream. He didn't see her run out. He didn't hear her calling for an ambulance. He didn't notice his body being lifted from the water. He didn't notice that he was in an ambulance, his mother driving frantically behind him.

He knew nothing; he knew only the darkness surrounding him.

* * *

_Perhaps…_

_If someone had given him a true smile…_

_He wouldn't be…_

* * *

**A/N: So? How was it? Terrible? I agree. The whole group is so...OOC. Tsu is OOC for a reason, but Nana and Iemitsu are OOC because...honestly...I wrote this as if I was Tsuna looking over his own life. How I wrote those characters is how that Tsuna would depict them, how he thinks they think. Not to mention I love a good ol' Iemitsu bashing. That didn't factor in at all. Nuh uh. *Sarcasm!***_  
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**Onto another subject, I wrote this fanfic about...oh...a month ago. Or more. I honestly don't even remember half of it. But I do know the last bit was written frantically at three in the morning. Ah. Oh well.  
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**So...let me know how ya think this is going, okay? In other words, I would REALLY APPRECIATE a nice review. Thanks! (In advance.)  
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